


Fragile

by Felixbug



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixbug/pseuds/Felixbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The air is as clean as it ever gets in Goodneighbor – cold and crisp, and tinged with the chemical haze of jet and the fog of cigarette smoke. It hums and tingles in Edward’s throat – he’s tasting the bitter song of radiation, weak and fragile but ever-present. He remembers the first time he could taste it as a ghoul. He wonders how it’ll taste to Jack without the serum – when the last lingering effects fade and he’s left staggering under the weight of toxic air he’s never truly known he’s breathing – and he feels sick. </i>
</p>
<p>Post-game. The last of the serum has run out, and Edward struggles to deal with Jack's new mortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Background m!sole/Hancock/Kent Connolly. This is part of my aggressively "everything is fine" canon so this'll all work out in the end, but for now - angst. And slightly rough sex, of course.

The air is as clean as it ever gets in Goodneighbor – cold and crisp, and tinged with the chemical haze of jet and the fog of cigarette smoke. It hums and tingles in Edward’s throat – he’s tasting the bitter song of radiation, weak and fragile but ever-present. He remembers the first time he could taste it as a ghoul. He wonders how it’ll taste to Jack without the serum – when the last lingering effects fade and he’s left staggering under the weight of toxic air he’s never truly known he’s breathing – and he feels sick.

“You alright, big guy?” Edward turns to see Hancock leaning against the door frame. The sounds of the Third Rail echo up the stairs from behind him, and the golden glow of the lights cast inky shadows over his face, blocked by the broad brim of his hat. His wicked, razor-sharp grin is clear enough though, and he saunters forward, offering Edward a cigarette.

“I’m cutting back.”

“Damn waste of immortality.” Hancock shrugs, and places one between his own lips. He lights it, and takes a slow drag, smoke spilling from the cavity of his nose and between his thin lips.

“I just…” Edward doesn’t really _want_ to talk about this, but he senses that he needs to, and that Hancock knows it. And Hancock isn’t known for letting things go. “I try not to around Jack. Not anymore.”

“You ran out then.” It’s not a question. They’d all known the small stockpile of serum wouldn’t last forever. They’d stretched it as far as they could – and Edward had watched, timeless, frozen, as it dwindled away to nothing.

“About a month ago.” It’s twenty-nine days, three hours, fourteen minutes. Not long enough for Jack to _look_ any different, not yet – but they’re running out of time. Edward knows, but he’s not so lost yet that he’ll admit that.

“How’re you holding up.”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

“Try again.” Hancock shakes his head. “Jack’s a little more…” he makes a vague gesture, tracing a smoky circle in the air with his cigarette as he searches for the right word. “Forthcoming. Started spilling his guts to Erik the second you left. I left him and Kent lookin’ after him. You two having problems?”

“Shit.” Edward leans against the wall, and runs one hand over his face. Over two centuries is more than enough time to have adapted to the changed contours of his face, but since the last shot it’s felt jarring. An endless reminder that he’s not human. That he’s not _mortal_. Not in any way that counts.

“How do you stand it?” Edward asks, finally. “I uh, I always wondered, but…”

“But didn’t want to ask?”

“Wasn’t sure I wanted to know.” Edward grimaces. “You and Kent. You both signed up for this. I don’t know – I’m not sure I’d have chosen – how do you make peace with something like that? With watching Erik get older?”

“Erik doesn’t age. He just gets more scars…” Hancock laughs, and holds out the pack of cigarettes again. This time, Edward takes one. Hancock holds out a light, and smirks at Edward through the flickering flame. “And more bad ideas.”

“Denial, then?” Edward breathes in smoke, and it’s thick enough, heavy enough, that he barely tastes the radiation anymore.

“Oh yeah. Denial and chems – always been my favourite cocktail.” Hancock laughs again, but it’s lacking a little of his usual humour.

“Never been a fan of either.” There’s a time and a place – and Edward enjoys most things in moderation – but he’s never understood how Erik and Hancock can want to live life in a haze of jet. He’s starting to get it, though – starting to reach the point where he’d give damn near anything to freeze time. If he starts he doubts he’ll stop – stretching every moment until it breaks, or until he does.

“I’m not going to pretend it’s easy,” Hancock says. “And Kent’s been where you are now more than a few times. But this thing you’re doing? Pushing him away? All you’re doing is wasting what time you’ve got.”

“I contaminate everything I touch. Never been an issue before, but now… I could hurt him without meaning to – without _knowing._ ”

“They’re not _that_ fragile. Just tell him not to swallow.” Hancock’s chuckle is warm and filthy, and just like that, it’s as if all his fears and doubts are gone. Hancock shrugs off the weight of his troubles as if it’s easy – and Edward guesses it isn’t, knows Hancock well enough to know he doesn’t so much _cope_ as run like hell, but he wishes he could at least pretend that well.

“Thanks for the tip.” Edward manages a laugh – more to reassure Hancock than anything else – and when they return to the bar and Jack’s fingers close over his, he manages not to flinch away. At least for a little while.

***

“Are you coming to bed?”

Jack isn’t quite drunk, but he isn’t quite sober either – he’s flushed and slightly unsteady on his feet as he joins Edward on the couch and straddles his lap with a grin.

“Jack…”

There’s no way to remove him without touching him, and Edward doesn’t know if he’s afraid of the contamination in his skin or if he’s afraid he won’t be able to stop – but either way, he keeps his hands at his sides, trying not to feel the softness of Jack’s ass pressed against him or the heat of his breath against his neck as he leans in close.

“Hancock said he’d talk to you.”

“He did.”

“Erik’s never taken the serum, and he’s _fine_ …”

“Erik is still young.” It comes out harsher than Edward meant it to, but Jack leans back before his lips brush irradiated skin, and it’s _worth_ hurting him if it keeps him safe. Edward sets his jaw hard as Jack pulls back, eyes wide and hurt.

“Erik’s reckless. Eventually, radaway won’t be enough – and he will become a ghoul, or he will die,” Edward says. “More likely the latter.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m _careful_ , Edward. I’m going to die.”

It’s the first time Jack’s said it, and Edward desperately wishes he hadn’t. He sees Jack pale, and realises he’s pushed him to this – before he’s ready, before either of them needed it to be said aloud, the words are _there_ and Jack’s no less terrified than him. He reaches out before he thinks about it, wrapping his fingers lightly around the back of Jack’s neck, and pulls him close.

“I can’t lose you,” Jack mumbles against his skin. Jack’s lips move against Edward’s throat and he’s weak when it comes to this, he knows if he wants to help Jack he should push him away – but all he can to is tangle a hand in his hair and pull their lips together.

Jack moans eagerly against the press of Edward’s mouth against his, fingers tightening in his shirt as Edward’s tongue sweeps across the curve of his lower lip. Jack’s mouth opens to him, hot and wet and gasping as Edward’s hands trail down his back and cup his ass. Thoughts scatter and restraint frays as Edward’s body falls into a pattern it’s known for centuries, hips rocking against him, nails digging into his thighs until he bucks and whimpers and mouths Edward’s name, breathlessly, against his lips.

“Come to bed,” Jack murmurs, and _god_ it’d be so easy to say yes. Edward lets his hands linger for a few more seconds, kneading the softness of Jack’s hips and remembering the way his pale skin reddened under rough thrusts and bruised beneath his fingertips. Those few seconds could cost Jack more time than he can spare, and Edward pulls back sharply, as if burned.

“I’m – no, Jack.” He swallows hard as Jack stands up, aching at the loss, knowing he could take it back with a word. “I’m sorry.”

***

It’s dark in the bedroom when Edward pushes open the door, and at first, he thinks Jack’s asleep. The sheets are tangled around his hips, and the light from the hallway catches on the smooth, pale expanse of his back, rising and falling slowly. He doesn’t know if he’s selfish to be here, or if he’d be selfish _not_ to be. He reached the point of considering leaving – but he couldn’t bear to, and of all the ways he knows he could break Jack, he thinks that might be the cruellest. And if he can’t leave, if he’s faced that down and rejected it outright, then he’s staying. He’s staying, and it can’t be like this. He sits down on the edge of the bed, and Jack turns.

“I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I couldn’t. I never sleep well without you.” Jack sits up, and the sheets slide a fraction lower. It’s been about a month since Edward’s seen him like this – thirty days, fourteen hours, six minutes, if Edward’s counting. Last time Jack was flushed and sweat-damp, hips bruised from the grip of Edward’s hands, soft thighs shaking, dark hair clinging to his forehead and lips parted and gasping.

“Are you telling me you haven’t slept in a month?” Edward gives a small smile, and reaches out, hesitating for only a moment before letting his fingertips ghost across Jack’s face and push the tousled hair from his eyes.

“Not well.” Jack leans into the gentle touch. “Are you back? Is this it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“No – I want better than you _think_ so.” Jack catches Edward’s wrist, and brings Edward’s fingertips to his lips. “Don’t let me think I have you back if you’re going to disappear.”

“Never.” Jack’s lips part, and Edward gasps as he feels the teasing rasp of teeth against his skin. “As long as – is this what _you_ want?”

“It’s all I’ve wanted for centuries.” Jack frowns. “Why would that change now?”

“Wouldn’t you rather, I don’t know…” Edward’s sigh turns into a groan as Jack’s wet lips slide down his finger, teeth dragging over a knuckle and digging in until his breath hitches. “Jesus, Jack…”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack nips at Edward’s finger again, and edges closer on the bed, one hand gripping his thigh.

“You could have a normal life, now.”

“I’m over 400 years old. Do you think mortality makes me _normal?_ ” Jack laughs. “Tell me the truth. What are you so afraid of?”

“However careful we are – just touching me, you’re taking a hell of a risk. And – yeah, I know, it’s your risk to take. I know that whatever we do you’re…” Edward swallows. “Well, no one’s so healthy they live forever. But I’ve been watching your back as long as I’ve known you. I keep you _safe_. I can’t be the reason…”

“You won’t be.” Jack drops Edward’s wrist and straddles his lap again, and this time, Edward isn’t even thinking about pushing him away. The sheets are kicked away and Jack is fully exposed, every bare inch of skin pressed against Edward, his waist soft in Edward’s hands and his pale throat inches away from his lips. Jack smiles, and cups Edward’s cheek, soft fingertips tracing scarred, leathery skin. “You’re the reason that – in a wasteland infested with giant bugs and overrun with murderous criminals, as well as quite possibly aliens…”

“No alien speeches, Jack…”

“I’m going to live to a very, _very_ old age.” He shifts closer, fingertips trailing down Edward’s throat, over his chest, lower and lower until they hook in the edge of his t-shirt. “ _That’s_ because of you.”

“You do realise I – uh…” Edward swallows hard as Jack’s fingers dip beneath the fabric, scuffing short, neat nails over his skin. “I can still be a pretty damn good bodyguard without you having to do – _ah_ – that.”

“Mmhmm?” Jack’s fingers circle a stiffening nipple, and he rocks his hips in Edward’s lap. “And where’s the fun in that?”

“ _God_.”

Edward bites his lip, and lets Jack push him back against the headboard. Any other night he’d push him down, nipping at his skin, groping and scratching and _snarling_ as he made him pay for teasing – but it’s not any other night. Everything feels different as Jack tugs Edward’s shirt off over his head – sending his hat flying in the process – and catches his wrist to guide his hand between his thighs.

“Touch me,” he groans against Edward’s ear.

In the moment Edward hesitates, Jack reaches for the bedside drawer and when his hand meets Edward’s again it’s to transfer the cool slickness of lube to his fingers.

“Ready?” Edward asks – and it earns him a playful swat on the shoulder.

“Seriously?” Jack grinds down against his hand, and his breath is an eager rasp against Edward’s neck. “I’ve been _ready_ for a month. _Touch me._ ”

Edward pushes the pads of two fingers against Jack’s entrance, and Jack gasps against his ear, thighs shuddering as he pushes down against them. And _god,_ it’s been too long -  Edward can’t hold back his own shaken groan as he feels the tight, soft heat engulf his fingers. He curls his fingers, rocks his hand, and Jack falls against him with a litany of shallow whimpers against his throat.

“T-there…” he managers to murmur, and his teeth rasp Edward’s jaw. “Give me _more_ – harder, _please…_ ”

Edward isn’t consciously holding back – but he can tell he’s not quite himself, can tell it’s not what Jack needs when his teeth catch Edward’s ear and his breath comes sharp and ragged against his skin. He’s desperate, and Edward lets him take control – riding his hand with urgent rocks of his hips. Jack guides Edward with every low moan, with each needy whimper, and finally cracks into hoarse demands.

“ _Faster,_ ” he rasps – and Edward’s cock throbs in the confines of his jeans at the urgency, at the raw command in his voice. “ _Fuck_ me.”

“God, Jack…” He can’t imagine how he refused him this long – but he’s far beyond considering it now. It’s not hard to make Jack beg, but Edward can’t remember how long it’s been since he saw him as needy as this – and he wants more. He grips Jack’s hip with one hand, fingers digging into soft flesh to hold him steady, and begins to thrust.

“That’s it…” Jack stifles a whine against Edward’s neck, toughened skin tugged between his teeth, twisted and nipped until Edward cries out. “Like you mean it – like you _own_ me – _ah_ – yes…”

Jack’s hands drift over Edward’s skin, following the shape of twisted flesh by memory. His fingertips seek out sensitive spots – hollows and contours where the skin’s as thin as tissue paper, hot and fragile and so raw it aches. Edward arches into his touch, head falling back against the headboard as he bites his lip. Jack runs nails over thick ridges of toughened hide, traces his tongue over the misshapen shell of Edward’s ear, and his teeth find the spot on his shoulder that makes him buck his hips, whimpering, as Jack growls playfully against his skin.

“Miss this?” he says softly.

“Jesus _fuck_ Jack, you have no idea.” He spreads his fingers, feeling Jack loosen around them, hot and slick and so goddamn tempting he doesn’t know how he held out half this long.

“Trust me, I do.”

Jack’s hand slides down his body to his belt – and there’s a second’s hesitation, a question in Jack’s pause and the soft nip at Edward’s ear. Edward lets the next rough thrust of his fingers and his impatient growl stand as the answer, and he can feel Jack’s fingers shaking with eagerness as he claws his jeans open and then – along with his underwear – down low on his hips.

“I want…” Jack’s palm wraps around Edward’s cock, and he groans as Edward thrusts up against his hand. “I want things how they were.” His lips brush Edward’s neck, and he positions himself over him, panting raggedly. Edward withdraws his fingers, and Jack moans against his skin.

“We’ll get there.”

Jack straightens up, his face inches from Edward’s. He’s flushed and panting, and he draws his full lower lip between his teeth with a groan as he lowers himself onto Edward’s cock. Edward’s hands tighten on Jack’s thighs, just for a moment, but a sharp spike of fear cuts through him at the thought of what could happen if his contaminated nails break the skin – and he loosens his grip. He sees Jack notice, sees him let it go, and lets the soft, slick heat engulfing his length rob him of regret.

He watches Jack ride him – hard, frantic rocks of his hips as he impales himself on Edward’s cock. He’s gorgeous like this – the delicate blush across his cheeks darkening as Edward’s hands slide up to cup his ass, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across his chest, and soft thighs shuddering every time he drives himself down. Before long, his gasps are whimpers – sharp and urgent as his nails rake Edward’s chest and his body pitches forward, dark hair clinging to sweat-damp cheeks.

Edward groans, rolling his hips to meet Jack’s desperate rhythm. He can feel his ass bounce with every loud, ringing slap against his thighs, and he can’t help thrusting up into him, hard, grunting harshly in response to Jack’s shaky cry.

“Y-yes…” Jack gasps. His hands slide to Edward’s shoulder, scrabbling nails clinging to him like a lifeline as he arches, panting. “Like that, please…”

Jack throws his head back, his breathless moans almost breaking into sobs of pleasure as Edward bucks his hips and his hands glide over Jack’s thighs to the curve of his ass. Jack meets every thrust, shaking, panting, his chest heaving. Edward leans forward with a groan, chasing a descending bead of sweat with his tongue from one stiff nipple up to Jack’s collarbone – and he almost, _almost_ , lets himself bite.

“H-harder…” Jack’s losing coherence fast, voice shaking and thighs tense and shuddering as they clench on Edward’s hips. “I’m – I’m not that fragile, you won’t – _god,_ Edward – you won’t break me.”

Edward groans at the spike of raw need that burns through him. His name sounds good on Jack’s lips like this – pounded out of him in breathless whimpers as his nails dig into Edward’s back. Jack’s all heat and gasps and softness, the slick heat of him clenching around Edward’s length, his cock trapped between them, throbbing against Edward’s stomach as every thrust drags them both closer to the edge. Jack’s skin is hot and damp against his lips, and Edward gives into temptation, to Jack’s pleas, and to the urgent rasp of nails down his back. He bites down – sharp, growling nips along Jack’s collarbone to the shoulder, then harder, rougher, snarling into his shoulder as he fucks up into him.

“Y-yes…” Jack gasps – and if he can still speak it’s not enough, not for either of them.

Edward digs his nails into his ass, and the tightening heat building in his flesh and coiling around his nerves almost shatters his restraint at the _noise_ Jack makes. It’s high and needy, shocked and beautifully overwhelmed. Edward pounds up into him, quick and rough and gasping, sucking a livid bruise into Jack’s pale skin.

Edward slides a hand into Jack’s hair, pulling him back until he’s straining and whimpering, exposed to Edward’s gaze. He reluctantly releases his grip on Jack’s ass and wraps his palm around his cock, sweeping the toughened pad of his thumb over the slick, flushed head. Jack practically screams – mouth falling open and slack, eyes half-closed, trembling as Edward’s next brutal thrust jolts his body. The gorgeously obscene sound of Edward’s thrusts and the slap of skin on skin mingle with Jack’s gasping moans as Edward strokes him. He knows Jack’s body as well as his own – knows just how to touch him to unravel him with ease. He slams up into his slick, stretched entrance, pumps his fist around his length, and Jack comes with a shattered cry, writhing and clenching on Edward’s cock.

The bite marks on Jack’s neck are a deeper crimson than the flush on his cheeks, and there’s a sweet rasp of pain undercutting the pleasure in his gasps. It’s in the shake in his breath and the tremble in his thighs, and Edward’s _missed_ that – he’s missed the ways their needs work together, missed the easy negotiation of boundaries that – after so many years – doesn’t always take words.

Jack falls forwards against his chest, hands curled around the back of his neck and breath still coming rough and shallow. He looks more alive than he ever has – and when Edward catches himself wondering if the lines around his eyes were always _quite_ so noticeable, he drowns out the question with a nip at Jack’s lip and a thrust that leaves him whimpering.

Edward grips Jack’s hips and fucks him through the last gasping moments of his climax, lips drifting down Jack’s throat to the flutter of his pulse and fingertips kneading his hips. He can almost taste the sharp catch in his breath as Edward drives deep into him, and smirks against soft, damp skin as Jack’s hips jerk in his grip.

“G-god,” Jack pants, his voice breaking into a shaky keen when Edward slams up into him with a growl.

“This what you – _ah_ – wanted?” Edward sucks a reddening mark into Jack’s neck and hopes the question doesn’t sound like the plea for reassurance it is.

“It’s a start.”

Edward can hear the breathless laugh in his voice, and it’s enough to quiet the last whisper of worry in the back of his mind. _Not_ enough to make him completely reckless – he lets himself feel every moment of the final few deep, rough thrusts before dragging Jack up his body and pulling out of him, groaning into his neck. He grips his ass as he rocks against it, his breaths growing ragged and every roll of his hips stuttering, grinding urgently against soft flesh. His cock throbs in the cleft of Jack’s ass, and Edward gropes roughly, fingertips digging in until Jack whimpers, pulling him down to move against him and sucking bruise after bruise into his shoulder.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Edward growls.

He feels as if he’s been pinned at the edge since Jack crawled into his lap, and with his pulse thundering in his ears and Jack’s fingers tracing patterns down his spine, he can’t tell if he wants to draw this out or if he can’t bear another second. Jack’s breath is loud in his ear, and Edward’s tangled in the warm human scent of him, shuddering gasps dragged out of him as their bodies move together and he chases every second of friction. Jack murmurs something against his ear, and it’s lost in his hoarse moan as the scalding rush of climax races through his flesh.

Jack lets Edward haul him closer – impossibly, bruisingly closer – Edward’s shaking hands tight on his hips and his cock pulsing as he grinds helplessly between Jack’s cheeks. He feels the liquid heat of his come smearing on Jack’s skin – and Jack’s eager whine and the arch of his back feels even better than the slickness coating Edward’s length, and the last burning sparks of pleasure that dance along his nerves and flicker up his spine.

“Worth it?” Jack murmurs. He rolls off him, flopping back against the crumpled sheets with a groan.

“Shit, Jack.” Edward’s heart is pounding, and his body’s caught in the conflicted place between a boneless puddle and aching tension. He’s worn out in all the best ways, drained and panting and – god, it’s hard not to let himself count the bites and scratches on Jack’s skin.

“You’re still worrying.” Jack frowns. “I wish you’d stop.”

“I’m not sure I’m capable of worrying just yet. Gimme five minutes.” Edward smiles, and it comes easier than he’d thought it might.

“Have I ever mentioned that you’re the worst liar I’ve _ever_ met?” Jack squirms closer, sliding one arm around Edward’s waist with a sigh. “I just – I need one thing to stay normal.”

“When have we ever been normal?” Edward runs his fingers through Jack’s hair and kisses the frown line on his forehead until it smooths out. “I’m sorry I’ve been a mess. Last thing you need, I get it. If I promise to do better, think you can let me worry a little bit?”

“Define a little bit.”

Edward kisses him instead – tightening his grip in Jack’s hair _just_ enough to make him gasp, then swallowing the sound as he sucks firmly at Jack’s lower lip. Jack’s thighs tangle with his, and Edward can’t resist – and doesn’t particularly try – reaching around to squeeze his ass. Jack makes a sound that’s between an indignant squawk and a moan, and pulls back.

“I’m not that easily distracted, Edward!”

“Now who’s lying?”

Jack turns out to be very easily distracted, and very distracting – and for a little while, at least, time stops.

***

Edward wakes alone, with the first grey light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He’s more than used to it – Jack’s research has a way of calling him out of bed – but however natural it feels to fall back into old routines, Edward can’t shake the feeling that something’s _different._

The lab is almost dark when Edward enters, and Jack’s working intently by the light of a single lamp, hunched over a cluttered spill of equipment Edward doesn’t recognise, and an IV bag that he immediately does.

“Everything okay?”

“You’re awake.” Jack turns, and he looks almost – absurdly – guilty.

“How bad is it?” Edward steps forward and tries to catch a glimpse of the machines, or Jack’s notes, but what little he can see means nothing to him.

“It’s radiation, Edward.” Jack sighs, and sweeps his notes out of reach. “It’s completely treatable with modern medicine, _and_ completely unavoidable if I ever intend to go outside again. Tonight was just a – a higher than typical exposure.”

Edward can hear the defensive tone in his voice. Jack’s ready for an argument, ready for Edward to pull away from him again – and it’s the last thing in the world he wants to do. Jack asked him for normal – and Edward can’t promise not to be scared, or overcautious, but he can do what he’s always done. He can be exactly where Jack needs him to be, no matter what.

“That makes sense,” he says. “I’ll make enquiries about a few reliable sources for radaway, best to make sure there’s no risk of being left short. Is there anything else you’ll need?”

“No, I think I – you’re alright? Really alright?”

“Working on it. I’ll let you know.”

He shoots Jack a grin, and he sees him relax, relief smoothing his features and straightening his spine. The future’s more uncertain than it’s ever been – but Edward knows where he fits, and it’s here, it’s _this,_ whatever’s coming. Jack smiles back – and it’s fragile, but holding steady, and it’s not fading yet.

 


End file.
